


I Want You To Know

by TheLordOfLaMancha



Series: Sublime Kumquats [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Berlin Wall, Germany is sad, M/M, Prussia is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLordOfLaMancha/pseuds/TheLordOfLaMancha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Germany has read a book on the Berlin Wall for the 6th time this week and Italy coaxes Germany into telling him why. More about Prussia and Germany than GerIta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want You To Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theconfusedartist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theconfusedartist/gifts).



> Second birthday gift fic for [theconfusedartist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/theconfusedartist)
> 
> I'll finish all of them soon.
> 
> This fic is a part of a series based on songs on a playlist theconfusedartist made me for Christmas.
> 
> This fic: Kill Your Heroes by AWOLNATION

Germany was sitting in the armchair, legs crossed, a book perched open on his lap and a worn stone being worried between his fingers. The book was well read, the spine cracked in places, but it was of the most pristine condition due to the careful attention Germany devoted to all his books. Italy watched, curled beneath a blanket on the couch, carefully sketching the man across from him. But he couldn’t focus. Not when Germany was looking like that.

Italy had the misfortune of coming to know this look well. Germany was a man of carefully guarded expressions, but Italy was not without the intuitive sense to understand their slight variations. To the casual observer, Germany’s face was empty, almost vacant, as his blue eyes scanned the lines before him. He muttered underneath his breath, harsh half pronounced German making his lips twitch. But there was a slight downturn to his eyebrows and his jaw was locked. His eyes were half-lidded, flicking faster as he sped read the section, and the rubbing of his thumb against the stone in his hand had grown quicker. Italy could almost feel the tense set of Germany’s shoulders from a distance, turned in and guarded. It made him look small.

This was Germany upset and it was not something Italy could stand for long. He glanced at the dustjacket resting on the end table next to Germany. The cover was instantly familiar. It was the historical piece on the Berlin Wall.

Standing and setting down his sketching materials, Italy crossed to face Germany, running gentle hands down his forearms. Italy waited with patience for Germany to look up, the man relaxing slightly under Italy’s careful touch.

“[ _Was_](https://translate.google.com/#de/en/Was)?” Germany asked, forgetting to translate. The book was in German, a language, despite Italy’s best efforts, he could never quite get the hang of. This word he knew though.

“Leave the book,” Italy instructed soothingly, almost hypnotically. “[ _Venire_](https://translate.google.com/#auto/en/Venire).”

Gingerly slipping the book from Germany’s fingers, Italy placed it next to the dustcover on the table and lured Germany over to the couch. He sat Germany down in the corner of it before darting to the side to grab the blanket. Italy curled up in Germany’s lap, his head resting in the crook of Germany’s neck and the blanket draped over the both of them. He began to idly rub soothing circles along Germany’s arm.

“You have to talk about it,” Italy said forwardly, lying where he was and not looking at Germany.

“About what, [_schatz_](https://translate.google.com/#de/en/schatz),” Germany cooed, making Italy tremble. But he would be undeterred.

“Don’t change the subject,” Italy fought back loosely. “You’ve read that book six times this week, and it’s making you upset.”

“It…” Germany began reluctantly. “It simply reminds me of something… unpleasant.”

Instead of replying, Italy waited with careful patience, knowing Germany would continue. He squirmed in Germany’s arms to settle himself, as though he was preparing for a long explanation. Germany sighed and conceded.

“It has to do with [_mein bruder_](https://translate.google.com/#de/en/mein%20bruder),” Germany almost whispered into the crown of Italy’s head, but loud enough that the other would hear him. “The day the wall opened and I saw him again for the first time… He was not well. I have never seen him so utterly defeated. His clothes were tattered and worn, thick black circles under his eyes… Dirty too, and the bruises… they were everywhere.”

Germany paused his story and held Italy a little tighter. The Italian nuzzled Germany’s neck in appreciation and support.

“And yet, when he saw me,” Germany continued. “It was like all the life came back into him. He rushed over and fussed over me so much I could hardly draw attention to how frail he looked. But of course, his energy didn’t last, and he practically collapsed in my arms. I carried him all the way home. It was strange.”

“How so?” Italy hummed gently.

“Carrying him… He was like a child. And I couldn’t help thinking, [_Gott_](https://translate.google.com/#de/en/Gott), how many times had he carried me? I had spent so long seeing him as older and depending on him… It was odd having our roles reversed. A few months later, we were on the train out to one of my country houses I had at the time. He looked like death. Paler than normal, if you can believe it, and his eyes sunk into his head. I had bid him to eat something, but no matter how much he ate he stayed frail. I… I had to keep reaching out and checking to make sure he was still alive.”

Germany had gone distant in remembrance, his gaze floating somewhere beyond the wall across from him. Italy turned his head to watch the tiny changes of Germany’s face as he continued the memory.

“We were silent for most of the ride. I read the paper… it was full of news about the talks of reunification. He was looking out the window when he said ‘[ _Deutschland_](https://translate.google.com/#de/en/Deutschland), _listen, there’s something I have to tell you._ ’ And I waited as he turned to look at me. And he said ‘ _Look, when the unification happens… If I don’t make it…_ ’

“I tried to stop him, telling him that he was going to live. But he just shook his head at me and said, ‘ _[Nein](https://translate.google.com/#de/en/Nein), I’ve come to terms with it. If it happens, it happens. We all have to go sometime. It will be kind of nice, in a way, to finally be done with everything.’_ I tried to protest again, but he continued saying, _‘But there’s one thing I still have to finish if you’d let me._ ’ And I stayed quiet.”

Then a familiar albino face appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“And I said,” Prussia began, drawing the attention of the two on the couch. “If there’s one thing I have to tell you before it’s all over, it’s this; [_Ich liebe dich_](https://translate.google.com/#de/en/Ich%20liebe%20dich) and to always remember, never let your fear decide your fate.”

Prussia strolled through the room, opening the bottle he had in his hand.

“I still believe it,” he said to no one in particular. “And I wouldn’t trust the country to anyone less. Still glad I didn’t die though.”

And when Italy turned back to look at Germany, he found him smiling.


End file.
